


Blame the Tequila: Chapter Eleven

by gemini_cole



Series: Blame the Tequila [11]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a tequila-fueled one night stand, Tom and Frankie find their lives forever changed. Can they handle the fallout?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame the Tequila: Chapter Eleven

“Did you shave your legs?”

            Frankie huffed as she shouldered the phone, smoothing lotion over her legs. “I’m wearing a dress, Tandy. Of course I shaved my legs!”

            “Ah-ha! You’re wearing a dress! Then it _is_ a date!”

            Frankie rolled her eyes. “Maybe I just want to wear a dress, ever think of that?”

            “Did you shave front and back? It’s a date.”

            Frankie snorted. “Again, I’m wearing a dress, Tandy. Its just good sense to shave. It doesn’t mean anything.”

            “Which dress are you wearing?”

            “That pink one with the flowers.”

            “And how are you wearing your hair?”

            Frankie paused, blowing out a breath as she struggled to reach behind and zip up the dress and not drop the phone at the same time. “Down, but with the sides pulled back?”

            “So you shaved, you’re wearing a dress, and you know how you’re doing your hair. You hardly ever put this much forethought into what you wear. Therefore, I call date!”

            Frankie thought she could practically see Tandy’s triumphant grin, she sounded so smug. Before she could reply, there was a knock at her door.

            “Tandy, I gotta run. Call you later. And this is not a date!” Frankie hung up on Tandy’s enthusiastic protests as her mother walked in and perched on the edge of her bed.

            “Hey, Mama. What’s up?” Frankie tossed the cell phone on the bed, as she once again reached behind her to zip up the dress.

            Viola smiled as she stood, motioning for Frankie to turn around.

            “I just thought I’d come see how it was going. Been awhile since I’ve had the hubbub of you getting ready for a night on the town. Turns out I’ve sort of missed it.” As she spoke, Viola tugged on the zipper, finally easing it up Frankie’s back.

            “Looks like this is it for this one, sugar. Won’t be wearing this much longer.”

            Frankie turned to inspect herself in the mirror, smoothing the skirt over her hips.  Her hand paused briefly over her still flat-for the-moment stomach. “I think that’s why I wanted to wear it tonight. Everything fits but is so tight. It feels like any day now I’m gonna wake up with a pooch. Then I won’t be able to wear any of my clothes.” She sighed as she turned toward her vanity, picking up her hairbrush. The room was silent for a few moments when Viola finally replied, “You know, baby, you can do this on your own. I know you doubt yourself, but you can. I thought about it, what if you just move back home for a few years? I’ll take care of the baby while you work, and when he’s school-age, you go back to London.”

            Frankie sighed. “Mama, let’s not start this again, please? Besides, I would want the baby settled in one place, one home, with life-long friends. I couldn’t just move back to London and drop him in school. First of all, a good school costs an arm and a leg over there. Second of all, he’d have a funny accent and all the kids would make fun of him. Amongst other considerations.”

            “Tom would pay for a good school.”

            Frankie frowned at Viola. “So he’s not good enough to be a dad, but he’s good enough to be a bank? That’s not how this is going to work, Mama. There’s no way Tom would allow that. I’m pretty sure he wants all in.”

            Viola sighed. “Darlin’, that’s what they all say. Believe me, once he sees how much trouble babies are, he’ll gladly sign a check.”

            Frankie regarded her mother sadly. “Is that what I was? Trouble? Did my daddy pay you off and walk away?”

            Viola stood and walked over to Frankie, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. “No, I wasn’t that lucky. Sugar, you were and still are my favorite trouble, and you know I love you. I just want you to think about it. Besides, you said it yourself, what kind of father can he be, when he’s always halfway around the world? How can he be a good daddy if he’s in some godforsaken jungle or on the side of a mountain somewhere shooting a damn movie? How’s this going to work? I just think you are saving yourself and my grandbaby a world of hurt if you cut ties now. Just think about it, ok?”

            Frankie watched silently as Viola walked out the door, shutting it gently behind her. Tacked to the back of the door was a myriad of old photos, Frankie and Tandy in color-coordinating homecoming dresses, softball games, even one of Frankie and Tandy on a float for the Spring Chicken parade, eons ago. The last thing she felt like doing now was going to a dance, with Tom or not. It felt like she needed to have the right answer to a question she didn’t know she’d been asked.

            A half hour later found Tom knocking on Viola’s front door once more. Smiling brightly as it opened, he was faced with a sour-faced Viola.

            “Keeping the florist busy, I see. If you think buying her flowers will make up for ruining her life, you’re wrong. There aren’t enough flowers in all of Georgia for that nonsense.”

            Tom looked down at the bouquet of blue irises he was holding. Gritting his teeth and trying to keep his temper in check, he thrust them out at her, plastering a smile on his face.

            “Actually, Miss Viola, these are for you, to thank you for your gracious hospitality over the last few days. I look forward to returning the favor, if you ever find yourself in London.”

            Viola snorted as she huffed, “Hell itself will freeze over before I-“

            “Mama, just thank him for the flowers and go find a vase.” Frankie interjected from the top of the stairs. Taking in the scene below, all she could think is “ _Oh god. Tandy was right. This is a date. Fuck, fuck fuck. I’m so not ready for this!_ ” Plastering a smile on her face, she descended the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she turned to Viola with a quelling look on her face, ushering her towards the kitchen. Looking back at Tom, she smiled as she asked, “Ready to get your chicken dance on?”

            Tom looked quizzically at her as he leaned down, kissing her cheek. “You look lovely tonight, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar. Do chickens dance?”

            Frankie smiled as she looped her arm through his, and they walked out into the twilight. “I’ll teach you, it’s easy. Tonight is going to be such a learning experience for you, I can’t wait to see you embarrass yourself!”

            They walked quietly back to town in the deepening twilight, both lost in their own thoughts, both seemingly not knowing what to say. Frankie finally broke the silence, blurting out, “You look nice tonight, but I think Tom Ford is a bit much don’t you?”

            Tom looked down at himself. It’s true; it was Tom Ford, but just slacks and a button down. “It was either this or shorts and a t shirt. Am I really very overdressed?”

            Frankie bit her lip. This is why she didn’t go out, she was awful at small talk, and now she’d offended him. Squeezing his arm reassuringly, she replied, “It’s ok. We’ll just keep you away from the barbeque chicken and you should be fine.” As they got closer to town, Frankie could make out the glow coming from the tents set up around down. Sensing a safe subject, she began pointing and describing each one. “ _Seriously, Frankie, quit with the inane babbling,”_ she thought. Luckily for her, they quickly settled on which tent to eat in, where the dance was, what they were going to see tonight. Having no interest in any of the other activities that made up the Spring Chicken Festival, they decided to eat first. Making their way to the line snaking around the Fried chicken tent, they passed a dejected-looking stout blonde with a pixie haircut. Frankie stopped in her tracks, pivoting around.

            “Kaylynn, is that you?”

            The blond turned around, a surprised look on her face. “Yeah?”

            Frankie smiled, “Kay, it’s me. Frankie Vanderveer.”

            Kaylynn face broke into a huge smile. “Fastball Frankie? Is that you? Holy hell, girl! Where you been?”

            Frankie smiled and stepped towards her, hugging her tightly. “London. I’m back visiting my Momma. How you been? Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? Tom, this is Kaylynn, we played softball together. Kaylynn, this is Tom.”

            Kaylynn shook his hand shyly. “I know you. I’m a big Loki fan! You’re so good!” Before Tom could even reply, Kaylynn was turning back to Frankie as she asked, “Fastball, what are you doing bringing home movie stars?”

            _I got knocked up and chased halfway around the globe, it wasn’t by choice_ , she thought, before replying “Tom’s about to play a southern character, and he needed a chance to soak in the culture. What better way to do that than the Spring Chicken Festival, right?”

            Kaylynn grimaced. “Sure, southern culture. That’s what we’ll call it.”

            There was a momentary lull as Frankie took a beat then finally replied, “Well, at least he’ll get to have some of the fried chicken and whatnot. Can you believe he doesn’t know the chicken dance?” Frankie nudged him playfully.

            Kaylynn laughed as she replied, “I’d pay to see that, really I would.”

            Frankie seized the opportunity _._ Mentally crowing to herself _, it can’t be a date with a third person, right?_  Frankie grabbed Kaylynn’s arm. “Come with us! It’ll give us a chance to catch up! Bring Katie along, where is she?”

            At that Kaylynn looked suddenly sad. “She went to Atlanta to visit her folks this weekend. You know how it is with these things. I was just leaving myself, actually.”

            Frankie sighed. “Come eat with us, at least. They can’t say anything if you’re just here with friends, right?” Not willing to take no for an answer, Frankie sandwiched herself between Tom and Kaylynn. With an exaggerated air of excitement she announced, “To the Fried chicken tent we go!!”

            As Frankie had hoped, being included in a group, small though it was, seemed to help Kaylynn’s situation. They reminisced all through dinner, and Frankie could practically see Kaylynn begin to unbend as she even started including Tom in on jokes, happily filling him in on some of their “legendary” exploits from their days of being on the softball team together, as Frankie laughed, trying (and failing) to hide her embarrassment.

            The three of them stuffed themselves with the most amazing fried chicken and all the fixings, as Frankie sighed happily as they left and walked towards the sound of the music. Frankie felt Kaylynn begin to tense, and hugged her, whispering, “We got your back, Kay. You should be able to have fun too. Don’t let them fuck with you!” Kaylynn offered her a tentative smile as they walked in, the music immediately making talking almost impossible.

Frankie had no idea how long it had been, but she was surprised at how much fun she was having. She and Kaylynn had howled with laughter as they taught Tom the chicken dance. Then Frankie watched as Kay taught Tom how to polka, which, to Frankie’s surprise, he was really good at. As she and Kay took a short break to sit, they watched as a sweet little girl asked Tom to dance. As they swayed back and forth on the dance floor, Frankie felt a sharp twinge in her chest. Everything led back to this, this choice she had to make. She knew she could do it without him. But should she? Was it really fair?

The song ended, and another began as Tom walked up to her, extending his hand. In an exaggerated drawl he asked, “Ma’am? May I have a dance with you this fine evening?”

The moment of truth. She could do this, right? It was just a dance. She momentarily hesitated, but as Frankie took his hand, preparing to move with Tom to the dance floor, she heard Kaylynn gasp.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Last I checked, dykes weren’t allowed to dance in this here tent.”

Jeff Franklin, local asshole. Clearly being the star quarterback back when they were in high school meant that he still ruled the town, or so he thought. Frankie gritted her teeth as she spat out, “Last I checked they didn’t allow assholes, either. Maybe you should go back to the bar, Jeff.”

He leered at her as he drunkenly pointed at her. “Nobody asked you now, did they, princess? Damn, Frankie. Look at you all growed up and lookin’ right. Filled out all right too. Why you hangin’ around with trash like this?” He took a step towards her as he continued, “Unless you’re one of them now too. Damn sure would be a shame, now wouldn’t it? Why don’t you give me and my boys a chance to show you a good time?”

Frankie glared back at him as she levelly replied, “I’d rather die than spend a minute with you. And if you are referring to me being like Kaylynn as meaning that I’m into girls, well, it would be a _massive_ improvement over you and your “boys”, wouldn’t it?”

He cocked his fist back, and for a moment, Frankie was conscious of the fact that maybe she’d run her mouth just a little too much this time. Before she could even react, Tom stepped in front of her, hands up, boxer-style.

“I’d really rather you didn’t do that, mate. But I will if you will.”

Jeff drunkenly belched, before replying, “Why not? I’ll kick your ass, and have time left to kick theirs’ too.” He waved dismissively to where Frankie now stood with Kaylynn. He wobbled on his feet as he attempted to assume a fighter’s stance. Knowing what she had to do, Frankie quickly grabbed Tom’s arm.

“Tom, no. You can’t. You know you can’t. You know what? He isn’t even worth it. Let’s go. Take me home.”

Tom dropped his arms as he looked down at her blankly before finally replying, “Yeah, home. Let’s get you home. C’mon Kaylynn, we’ll get you home safe, I don’t want you to be alone.”

Frankie grabbed his arm, stopping him. “No, you don’t get it. I mean, yes, let’s take Kaylynn home, but Tom, you were right.  I want to go home. To London. Take me home.” Grabbing Kaylynn’s arm with one hand and Tom’s with another, she tugged them out of the tent, into the night.

 

 

 


End file.
